Title: A Bed For The Night
Pairing: McGee/Ziva
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Het
Cat: Fluff
Spoilers: Capitol Offense.
Warnings: None.
Summary: When Ziva spends the night at McGee's, does she stay in the guest bedroom?
Author's Note: Written as a prize for Lawral for correctly guessing my Hangman puzzle. She requested McGee & Ziva with the prompt of "spend the night." Of course I thought of Capitol Offense and Ziva's "slumber party" with Abby. Heh. And I was having block with the title, lol. And it was pointed out to me that McGee doesn't have a guest bedroom, but for the purposes of this story, he does. :P

"Well, the guest bedroom is right here and I'm sure you know where the bathroom is and the kitchen, if you get hungry or need some water or something." McGee opened a door, revealing the bedroom, furnished with a tasteful yet subdued wooden dresser and a matching immaculately made bed.

"It is very nice, McGee," Ziva said, peering inside the room, then turning her attention back to him, "but you did not need to go through such trouble. I just as easily could have spent the night at Abby's again."

McGee blushed slightly, but smiled. "Now, come on. What kind of friend would I be if I made you sleep on Abby's couch when I have this extra bedroom with a really comfortable bed, just waiting for someone to sleep in it?"

Ziva smiled back, leaning into him slightly as she said, "I did not sleep on the couch." She pulled back again and watched as he attempted to register her words.

"But, you told Tony . . ."

She shrugged. "That was Tony. I did not want to encourage his fantasies."

He frowned as she pushed herself away from the doorframe and headed towards the kitchen, her hips swaying seductively as she walked. "Even if it was true?"

She spun to face him, a bottle of wine now in her hand. "I am thirsty. Would you care to join me?"

He continued to frown as he headed towards her, snatching the bottle from her hand. "We have to work tomorrow, Ziva. Drinking is a bad idea."

She chuckled. "It is just one glass of wine, McGee. No harm, no foul, I believe the saying is."

He sighed, placing the wine back on the countertop and putting his free hand on her back, pushing her back towards the bedroom. "Go to bed, Ziva. If you need anything, you know where my bedroom is."

"Hmm, I like the sounds of that," Ziva purred, slowing down momentarily until McGee's hand forced her into the bedroom.

"Good night, Ziva," McGee said, his voice now tinged with annoyance. He watched as she entered the room and sat gently on the bed, appearing to be inspecting it, then closed the door, smiling to himself. He wasn't really that annoyed with Ziva; she needed a place to stay again, this time because the water main in her apartment building had burst and she didn't have any hot water. He didn't want to deny her the courtesy of taking a shower, and he knew just how unpleasant those showers at NCIS were, especially with people like Tony around.

Plus, he had to admit the idea of Ziva spending the night at his place held a bit of excitement for him, as well as a tiny bit of reassurance of his own safety. Sure, he was a federal agent, too, but Ziva was just a lot better at dealing with things like intruders.

He shrugged to himself and made his way into his own bedroom, stripping off his work clothes and leaving just a pair of boxers on as he walked to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face before heading to bed.

. . .

Ziva awoke with a start, her breathing heavy, sweat covering her forehead. She swiped the back of her hand against the moisture, frowning slightly at the feeling, but more distracted by the contents of the dream that had awoken her. She looked around the darkened room nervously, reaching over and quickly switching on the lamp on the bedside table, then yanking her hand back as though the lamp was hot. She knew it was irrational to feel this way, but that didn't stop her from feeling the way she did.

She was afraid. She'd had a nightmare and it had woken her up and now she was afraid. It didn't matter that she was safe in bed in a locked apartment building . . . But she wasn't in her apartment. She frowned as she studied the room she was in, just now seeing that it wasn't the surroundings she was used to from her own home, but her frown disappeared when she remembered where she was - McGee's apartment.

She let out a soft sigh and settled back under the covers, hesitantly reaching over and turning off the lamp again. She would be fine. She was not alone. McGee was here, as well.

She closed her eyes. And quickly opened them again as the images from her nightmare assaulted her full force. She reached over and turned the lamp on again, this time getting out of bed and pacing the room, a hand over her mouth. This was ridiculous! She was a trained killer, an assassin, and here she was, unable to sleep because she had had a nightmare.

There was one way she could think of to get back to sleep, but she worried that it would be crossing a boundary of some kind. Still, she needed to sleep. He would forgive her.

Ziva crept to the bedroom door, gently opening it and stepping out into the hallway, pausing momentarily before tiptoeing towards McGee's bedroom. She knocked lightly, holding her ear to the door, but she knew the way McGee slept - he wouldn't hear her, no matter if she came right up next to him and yelled into his ear. No, if she wanted any sleep tonight, she would just have to go in without his permission, and climb into bed with him.

She knew it was a risky move, but after seeing those pictures of her on his computer yet again, she knew he wouldn't be entirely objectionable to the action. Now she didn't have any time to waste - she just needed to go in there and get in bed, before she changed her mind and was left trembling like a Mossad-trained leaf in McGee's guest bedroom.

She quickly opened the door and stepped inside, then tiptoed across to the bed, poking McGee lightly to see if he was indeed sleeping, and when the only response she received was a slight noise of disapproval, pulled back the covers on the opposite side of the bed from him and crawled in, bringing the covers back over herself and snuggling down into the pillow, relaxing a bit. This was better. Yes, she could feel herself growing sleepier by the second . . .

. . .

McGee jostled himself awake, letting out an unflattering snort, and was about to close his eyes and resume his sleep when his hand landed on something soft and . . . hairy on the other side of the bed. He jerked his hand away from it, then thought about it for a moment and asked, "Ziva? 'sthat you?"

Ziva had awoken upon hearing McGee's voice and sighed to herself. "I am sorry, McGee," she started, thinking of how to explain her presence in his bed. "I . . . I . . ."

McGee noted her difficulty in explaining why she was there and reached for the lamp, switching it on and squinting in the sudden light, asking, "Are you okay, Ziva? What's going on?"

Ziva closed her eyes, feeling more embarrassed now than when she had initially woke up from the dream. "It was nothing. I had a bad dream and could not fall back to sleep. I should not have come in here . . ."

McGee's eyes focused as he woke up further, and what he saw in that moment was something he was completely unaccustomed to. Ziva looked vulnerable, and afraid. She shifted, ready to get out of the bed, so he stuck a hand out and put it on her arm, causing her to look up at him, surprised at the motion. "It's okay, Ziva." He paused and they laid there in a thick silence, both feeling slightly awkward and uncomfortable, until McGee asked, "You want to talk about it?"

Ziva shook her head, her hair brushing McGee's forearm. "Not particularly, no. It . . . was not pleasant, as you can imagine."

McGee frowned. "You okay now?"

She nodded quickly. "Yes. I just . . . I needed someone, to hear someone breathing. I did not think you would mind." She paused, then added, "Well, I did not think you would find out so soon . . ."

"Ziva, I said it was okay," McGee said, amusement in his voice. "It's . . ." He paused, blushing slightly. "It's nice to have someone here."

Ziva smiled. "It is nice to be here." She thought for a moment, then got a sneaky look on her face. "McGee, how do you feel about, what is the term, is it spooning? Where two people lay together like spoons in a drawer, yes?"

"Um, I suppose I've never really thought about it before . . ." he said cautiously, watching in mild horror as Ziva flipped over and faced away from him, scooting her body back against his, "but, um, I suppose I'm okay with it." He didn't move, almost like he was afraid of touching her.

"I will not kill you if you touch me, McGee," Ziva said, almost as if reading his mind. "I just need to know I am not alone."

McGee swallowed and turned off the lamp, then gently rested his arm across Ziva's hip. She reacted by sliding back further, until her back was pressed against his chest. She could feel his heart beating through his chest, slightly rapid, but calm at the same time.

Ziva felt herself growing drowsy again and as her eyes fluttered shut and attempted to take her away into the land of sleep, she murmured, "Thank you, McGee."

He smiled against her hair, pressing a gentle kiss to the strands. "No, thank you, Ziva."

He couldn't see it, but in her sleep, Ziva smiled.

THE END!

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